She Watches
by Power of the Pen12
Summary: When she had finally realized that you were the one, you had finally realized she wasn’t. Typical, wasn’t it? The perfect boy falling for the girl’s best friend, the misunderstood ugly duckling evolving into a beautiful swan." Oneshot.


**This story's a bit hard to understand. I hope you do. Enjoy! ****J**

She watches.

The whole day long, she watches. What else is she to do? Yours is a life worth living, unlike the one she brought unto herself. I see her. Her eyes eat up your every move hungrily, like a ravenous dog.

She watches and waits, waits for a moment that came years ago, came every second of each day yet she pushed it away. The moment's long gone, yet still she waits. She will never stop.

I can still remember the fateful year it happened. Gradual, yes, but the process took time. I could recall it all as though it were yesterday.

When she had finally realized that you were the one, you had finally realized she wasn't. Typical, wasn't it? The perfect boy falling for the girl's best friend, the misunderstood ugly duckling evolving into a beautiful swan.

And it killed her to see Sam so unbearably happy. She didn't understand it at first; the girl was practically her sister, yet every laugh that emitted from Sam's mouth made her shudder, every smile made her grimace with regret. You had always been hers; a disposable pet, her personal follower. And when the mindless, love-struck boy grew a mind of his own, it broke her.

Her jealousy got the better of her; you must have noticed the clipped tone she used with Sam, the sidelong, cold glances and the instantaneous eye rolls. Sam was hurt, and her pain gave Carly the energy she needed to fuel her growing dark side.

Their friendship had always been unexplained; but the equal attraction made it work, and therefore no one questioned it. But Carly had always felt in charge, being the sweet teacher's pet she was. Sam was a lost soul she needed to save, and she was comfortable in that role as martyr. But as Sam's grades raised, her home life flourished, and her love life expanded with your help, they were equals.

Carly had already lost you, Freddie. You no longer blushed when she smiled, begged quietly for a kiss or hug, or took your insulting comments silently. Arm wrapped tight around Sam's waist, he would argue at iCarly rehearsals, and the icy atmosphere became part of the room until all three of you dreaded the webshow.

Her perfect world had somehow become unbalanced. Nothing had changed, really; she still had Spencer, her grades, her popularity. But Sam was happy, and you didn't worship her. This hatred of Sam's happiness turned quickly to self loathing, until she could barely look at herself in the mirror. Sam was her best friend; why did she cringe whenever Sam sighed with relief or grinned just for the sake of it?

You didn't know this; even Carly didn't; but just because the girl had a good home and friends didn't mean she was happy. Carly had her own problems, just like every other human being. And seeing Sam's unfortunate family made her comfortable with her own life; her confusion at our complicated universe was diminished by Sam's suffering. Carly provided a shoulder to cry on, and Sam took it gladly, yet she was helping Carly far more than she knew.

When you developed a crush on Carly, she figured it out practically the same day. You were a shy yet kind boy who became attached to her unnervingly fast, providing compliments and anything else she might need. Over the years, she manipulated you like a puppet, finding just how to bat her eyes to make you flustered before laughing in your face just to watch your expression fall. You were always there for her, and she became greedy.

And then one day it all stopped; you left her abruptly, with no warning, bringing Sam along with you. You were no longer her outlet; you thought for yourself, spoke your mind, and encouraged Sam to do the same.

Harsh, bitter feelings rose in her, feelings that had been beaten dormant by her angelic conscience for years. She snapped at Sam, mocking her problems and trying desperately to create more. She tried to look her prettiest for you, yet there was no luring you back; even if an innocent crush still resided within you, it was obvious she wasn't looking for a relationship. No, the opposite of that.

Frustrated, Carly lashed out frequently, even resorting to violence if her biting words didn't extract the proper reaction from her victims (usually Sam). Every night she would come home, put on an innocent mask for Spencer, and cry into her pillow, weeping for the unfairness of the world and for the monster that she had become.

It must have surprised her, that one day when she walked into school and Sam barely looked up. It must have been such a shock when you glared at her icily instead of trying to make amends for fights she had started. And when it all sank in, it became too much; she spent the day in the bathroom, shaking from the realization that she had pushed you both too far. Sam and Freddie had had enough. She was alone.

And that's where she stands today, a self hating shell of the girl you once knew. How long has it been, anyway, since you last spoke to her? A year? Maybe two? She's changed in those years, Freddie, more than you could ever know. The scars on her arms did not appear magically overnight, nor did she get them from a biking accident, though that's the story she tells to anyone who asks.

I'm not asking you to become her follower again; I'm not even asking you to speak to her. Just know the pain she's known, even if it is self inflicted. Carly Shay wasn't a terrible girl; I should know. She was born a twisted soul, trying fruitlessly to untwist herself. Unfortunately, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I'm asking you to look at her once in a while, and notice the small differences that might tip off a casual observer that Carly isn't what she was three years before. The slightly sunken eyes; her smile, tainted with a mocking edge; the way she teases her hair so it hides her face, as though she were ashamed to show herself. Remember who she was, and feel sorrow for who she is. She deserves at least one mourner.

Who am I, you ask? Isn't it obvious? Freddie, love, I'm the one who knows Carly best, the one who knows everyone best. I watch over her, you, Sam, the world. Your waking hours await, so I'll let you sleep, and when you wake, believe I was here.

Tomorrow, look at your neighbor and see past the mask of perfection she's learned to wear so well. Underneath, a shivering, terrified person lies, staring open mouthed at the world she's been forced to live in. Feel empathy for her; help save the soul she's mutilated so thoroughly. I bid you a good night.

**Well, that's my Seddie/Creddie angst oneshot. And for those of you who didn't fully understand, this story's told from the POV of God. **


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